Enervate
by N7Alliance
Summary: Five years after the Reapers attacked, Commander Shepard has done his best to move on and live a normal life. That is, until he gets a message on his Omni-tool. ""Love letters from your favorite quarian?"..."Garrus." Shepard repeated. "Something's wrong."" TalixShepard established romance. Please read and review!
1. An Old Friend

_A/N: Hi, everyone! This is a joint venture between myself and my girlfriend who has a few running series of her own around some other fandoms. This, however, will be my first venture into any sort of fanfiction whatsoever. If you all like it, we'll consider more of this joint sort of thing or I'll consider doing some of my own._

 _So, in this scenario, we have a few different things going on. It's largely based off of my Shepard who was a sentinel, highly paragon, and had a certain love for sniper rifles, largely based off of my play style. He chose to destroy the Reapers (and all synthetic life) but also happened to survive the devastation to the Citadel. There's no funky voodoo to the Indoctrination Theory applied here or anything. Also, pre-established relationship between male Shep and Tali. So, here goes…_

… _._

 ** _Enervate: (v). to deprive of force or strength; destroy the vigor of; to weaken._**

 ** _..._**

5 years. It had been 5 whole years since the army of sentient machines tried to commit genocide on the entirety of organic life in the Milky Way Galaxy. 5 years since the Crucible detonated the mass relays and nearly doomed organics anyway. That was back in a time when fear of extinction united everyone—Turians, Krogan, Asari, Humans, even the Geth and the Quarians—against the Reapers.

Things were different afterwards.

Shepard—Lieutenant Commander Preston Shepard—was different. For being the hero of the entire galaxy, he led a mostly boring life. He was comfortable, though. He could get a free meal at any restaurant he walked into (as long as it wasn't Salarian or Batarian) and he could buy almost anything he set his eyes on. He lived in Anderson's old apartment, with the strip and the apartment left mostly untouched by the near-destruction of the Citadel.

And that's where he found himself one afternoon, on Silversun Strip. Playing roulette at the casino, not necessarily winning or losing. Breaking even, overall. Despite his mediocre luck, a crowd had formed around him, mostly humans and asari, just watching and cheering and clapping whenever he won a bet. Shepard was used to this—he was a war hero, after all. A living legend. Kids' eyes would light up when they recognized him on the strip. The greatest celebrity of any race couldn't hope for the kind of fame and attention Shepard received over the past 5 years since the Reapers.

Shepard wasn't paying attention to the crowd. He wasn't even paying attention to the game he was throwing money at.

He was thinking about the war. About the losses. Sometimes, it was enough to trip the combat veteran up in emotions. Thinking about people that died because of a programming algorithm in a few big robots. People that didn't have to die, if only the Council listened to his warnings about the Reapers. If only they'd seen the evidence in the Collectors and the Prothean information. If only they'd completed the Crucible a bit quicker. If only—

"Shepard."

A friendly voice cut through the crowd.

"Y'know, for a guy that could take down a death machine, you sure are terrible at roulette."

Shepard turned, looking for the voice in the crowd. Not a few feet behind stood a Turian. The one Turian that stuck with him from the very beginning.

"Garrus! What are you doing here?"

Garrus Vakarian, blue face paint, blue armor, blue holographic visor, and still it was the face that took a rocket.

"Back on the Citadel to do some weapons deals for a Turian special forces group. Stuff I shouldn't really be telling you about."

Garrus smiled, as much as Turians can, and nudged him. "You look like shit, Shepard. Civilian life making you go soft?"

"Nice to see you too, Garrus."

"It's been too long, old friend. We really ought to catch up. It's been…. What… 2 years since we parted ways and I went back to Palaven?"

"Damn… feels like it's been less than that." Shepard paused, backing away from the roulette table and passing the casino employee a tip. "Tell you what, let's head up to the apartment and catch up over a glass of the good stuff."

Garrus took a step forward. "I have a better idea. Meet me in the locker room down at the Armax Arsenal Arena. You look like you need to knock some rust off, and I'm looking for some fun that doesn't involve the Turian military or C-Sec or any of that bullshit." He paused, then added. "Unless you're afraid that I'll outshoot you again like I did up on the Presidium."

"You're on, Vakarian."

…

An hour and a half later, Shepard sat on a bench in the locker room, pulling on his armor. It was modeled based off of the Cerberus Spirit Armor: lightweight and very sleek, with enough capacitors and generators to give him a strong shield advantage over other armors as well as a boost to his own biotic and tech powers. This specific set of armor was stamped with his Alliance designation, "N7," and equipped with an outer layer designed to be able to change color and pattern to adapt to changing environments between planets. It hadn't been too long since he last suited up, since Armax Arsenal sponsored him to put on matches and test new equipment and scenarios. Besides, he needed a reason to stay reasonably fit.

"Shepard, when you're done, I want your input on a scenario," Garrus piped up from the other room.

"Be right there." Shepard got up and walked over to the interface.

"So, what are you thinking? Geth, with super elites, maybe? Fans always love seeing more robots dying."

"I'd rather not…." Shepard suddenly thought back to the war, back to Legion and the sacrifice he made for the Geth. He thought of the entire race of artificial intelligence that had to die in order to destroy the Reapers. Legion's words echoed through his mind. _Does this unit have a soul?_ When Shepard chose to destroy the Reapers and all synthetic life, including geth, did he extinguish an entire race of souls?

"Thinking of Legion, Commander?"

Shepard sighed and didn't deny it. "The Geth were our allies. They fought beside us. Legion saved my life at the Collector Base. I wish Armax Arsenal would remove Geth from the options."

"How about Cerberus, then? I always love… how did you say it…" Garrus paused. "Kicking them in the… teeth? For how many times they betrayed us to the Reapers?"

Shepard nodded, the emotions from the war fading back away. "Works for me, Garrus."

Garrus keyed in the selections. Five minutes later, the pair was finishing up modifications to their weapons.

"So, Shepard… ready for me to school you with a sniper rifle again?"

"Garrus, what if I told you that I missed on purpose up on the Presidium that one time?"

"Then I'd call you a liar. And then tell you to prove it."

Shepard laughed, and shouldered his weapons. He would be carrying three guns into this fight: the M-97 Viper, M-11 Suppressor, and M-12 Locust. Since they would be fighting Cerberus, both he and Garrus equipped their rifles with enhancements to see through smoke. Garrus carried the M-92 Mantis and M-15 Vindicator.

"You ready?"

"Hell yeah. Just like old times."

Shepard nodded, started to put on his helmet, and then tossed it back in his locker. He could fight Cerberus Elites without it. Garrus was already on the elevator platform when Shepard stepped on.

…

The music started playing along with the announcer's voice.

"Lllladies and gentlemennnnn. It's combat night here in the Armax Arsenal Arena! Today's match brings you Commander Shepard of the Alliance and the Turian Spectre, Garrus Vakarian!"

 _Spectre?_ Shepard shot Garrus a "what the hell?" look, which Garrus just shrugged off. "We'll talk about that later."

A few seconds later, Centurions spawned on the far side of the arena. Splitting the field, Garrus and Shepard went to corners of the arena, drawing sniper rifles. Too far to deploy smoke yet, and too far for Shepard or Garrus to use Overload, two Centurions each rushed towards their end of the map.

Garrus was the first one to shoot. One shot to the head. Disrupter ammo combined with the shear power of the Mantis ripped through the Centurion's shields and took his head off. Shepard didn't have a clear shot yet; his respective centurion was in cover, but close enough to time an Overload when the soldier popped out of cover to shoot. The shock of the Overload to his shields sent him reeling, and a shot from Shepard's rifle penetrated his helmet to finish him. Shepard stood, looking to gain a bit of ground on the spawning troops.

By then, two Centurions were the least of their worries as Shepard suddenly found the flash of red lasers sights honing in on his position. He dove into the nearest cover, just a few feet from Garrus.

"Nemesis."

"I really hate those things. Their damn sniper rifles always bringing my shields down."

Shepard leaned out from the wall, not taking aim but just scanning for the enemy that had been sighting him. Shots were pinging off the obstacles all around him, with one or two hitting and taking a chunk out of his shields. Shepard finally found her just as she began sighting him again.

"Found her. Far right corner on the ledge."

Garrus waved in acknowledgement. "I'll keep these troopers down, you put her out of commission."

Garrus switched from his sniper to his assault rifle, rising up and resting the rifle on the top of barricade. From where he was, the Nemesis couldn't get a shot at him but he could still put fire over the top of any advancing Cerberus to keep their heads down.

Shepard took a prone position with the muzzle of his Viper just outside of the edge of his cover. His opposite, the Nemesis, stood up, immediately sighting down on him a moment before Shepard pulled the trigger. The shot landed center of mass, not completely bringing down her shields. Another shot, still center of mass. Shields down, and she backed off from her cover, rolling somewhere else. He didn't have a shot anymore.

Shepard muttered to himself. "Fuck this…."

He stood, his body starting to glow with mass effect fields as he sent Warp around the cover to hit his enemy. The warp field killed her immediately.

Garrus had already mopped up most of the ordinary troopers. Shepard reloaded, the thermal clip clanking to the ground as three more shots finished off the rest.

The announcer's voice came on as Shepard's last shot rang out. "End of Round One." Garrus stepped over to him.

"Not bad, Commander. The easy civilian life hasn't softened you at all."

"Not too bad yourself, Garrus. Though I'm still in the Alliance military. And technically a Spectre." He paused for a moment. "Speaking of which—"

The announcer's voice cut in again. "5…4…3…2…"

"Later, Shepard. Hope you're ready."

"1… Round Two."

Garrus switched back to his Mantis, taking up a position behind Shepard, who stowed his own sniper rifle and drew his pistol. Cerberus troops starting spawning only a few meters in front of Shepard. He nodded to Garrus, who began picking off enemies as he could. Shepard used a combination of Overload and Throw to put ordinary troopers out of cover or to drop the shields of more powerful enemies like Nemesis and Phantoms. Garrus's rifle and Shepard's suppressed pistol conversed in a multitude of shots and reloads.

"Shepard! Need a thermal clip!"

Turning back into cover, Shepard dug a fresh rack of thermal clips out of his ammo pack and threw it over to Garrus. The Turian caught it, loaded one of the clips into his rifle with the heat diffusion system hissing at being worked so hard.

Shepard popped over the top of the barricade he was behind, just in time for a well-placed shot from another Nemesis to find its mark. Shepard heard the telltale sign of his shields dropping, and dropped behind the barricade. In the seconds that it took for his shields to recharge, he dropped his pistol and pulled the rifle off of his back, with it stretching and deploying in his hands. He still knew where his enemy was, and as he rose over the barricade again, he heard the familiar 'clap' of Garrus's rifle shot. In the same instant, the Nemesis's head disintegrated.

"End of Round 2."

The announcer's voice came as a relief to Shepard, breathing hard after the scramble of the end.

"Pulling your ass out of the fire again, Shepard," Garrus called out teasingly. "If I hadn't been there and been such a good shot, the Illusive Man would get the chance to rebuild you again."

Shepard shrugged it off. Garrus was right that time.

"You did run out of ammo, though," he called back.

"You got me there, Commander."

"5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Final Round."

Not ten meters from Shepard and Garrus, who were both now out of cover, an Atlas suddenly appeared.

"Garrus, flank it! It can't shoot at both of us at the same time!"

Garrus and Shepard both ducked behind cover as the Atlas turned and started firing rockets. Though they exploded against the low wall Shepard was behind, he knew that his shields were weakening bit by bit.

The glow of Garrus's omni-tool appeared around his arm, as he turned out of cover and sent an Overload at the Atlas's shields. Shepard switched to his SMG, knowing that rapid fire would be effective against the mech's shields. He turned out of cover and fired, but stopped moments later as he saw a shimmer of light move across his field of vision. Fast.

He turned, sending a barrage of bullets at it. "Phantoms!"

The shimmer morphed into a Cerberus Phantom directly in front of Garrus. Shepard glowed with mass effect fields as he threw a powerful warp field at the Phantom. The blast dropped its barriers and sent it reeling, with Garrus stepping out of cover, the blade unfolding from his omni-tool, and plunging through the midsection of his foe.

"Now let's take care of that Atlas!"

Ducking back into cover, Garrus and Shepard timed shots and Overloads to hit the Atlas. Not a few seconds later, another powerful warp field from Shepard broke through the outer armor and ruptured the internal components, resulting in an explosion that sent bits of shrapnel at the pair.

They heard the familiar tune of victory as the announcer's voice came on again.

"The match goes to Shepard and Vakarian!"

Cheering—either artificial or from crowds gathered around the windows—ensued, as the two stepped out of the simulation and back into the locker room.

As he released the clasps of his armor, Shepard couldn't hold back his curiosity.

"So… A Spectre now? You help me defeat the Reapers and they finally promote you?"

"Well, yeah." Garrus offered a half shrug. "After you rallied all sentient life in the galaxy and blew up a bunch of robots, you did retire, sort of. The Council figured they could rely on someone else for a change. And I have been doing quite a bit with the Turian special operations community in the Terminus Systems and all. Made sense that they give me Spectre status to operate of my own accord in that realm."

"Sounds like you're doing pretty well for yourself, Garrus."

"I do my best. But what about you? How have you been?"

Shepard let the greaves of his armor clank to the floor as he released them, the last piece of his armor. "It's… been easy, I guess? With the Reapers gone and the war over… I don't know what to do anymore. Tali's been busy with Rannoch and all. I've been here playing hero as the Alliance wants me to do."

"Thank the spirits the war's over…."

Shepard stayed silent at that.

Garrus looked at him. "The war never really ends for us though, does it?"

"The nightmares, the memories… they don't stop, Garrus."

"Remember what I told you. A certain Turian friend of yours isn't sleeping any better. And he'd love to meet you at the bar and absolutely drink you under the table."

Shepard smiled at Garrus's sense of humor. "Follow war with alcohol. I like the way you think."

"Come on. Let's get back up to that fancy apartment of yours and crack open a few."

Shepard stood, shoving his armor back into his locker and nodding at Garrus's suggestion. "Let's do it."

Walking out of the locker room and back to the elevator to the apartment, Shepard felt his omni-tool vibrate for a second, knowing he had just received a message. Most likely from Tali. The only two people that his omni-tool interrupted him for were Hackett and Tali. He looked down at the notification as he stood in the elevator up to the apartment.

"Love letters from your favorite quarian?"

"Garrus."

"What? It's funny." Garrus chuckled to lighten the mood.

"Garrus," Shepard repeated. "Something's wrong."

...

 _A/n: Please review! They mean the world._


	2. It's An Expression

**A/n: Hey there. So, so sorry for the wait, guys. I had pneumonia for a week that sorta put me behind schedule, and I had to do a bunch of makeup stuff, including cranking out this chapter. I hope you like it, and thanks for sticking with us for another round! Also! I realized we forgot this very, very important thing last chapter:**

 **Disclaimer: As much as we might wish otherwise, we do not own any content affiliated with the** _ **Mass Effect Trilogy**_ **.**

…

Garrus turned and looked at Shepard. He knew that tone. The controlled urgency that masked the very slight panic was a sound the turian had come to know all too well during the war with the Reapers. They stepped out of the elevator and into the apartment, Garrus watching Shepard carefully as he pressed different buttons on the omni-tool.

"Tali, or Hackett?" Garrus eventually asked, not sure which answer he was really hoping for.

"Tali. But it's bad, Garrus."

Vakarian's gaze narrowed. "What do you mean?"

The Lieutenant Commander looked down at his omni-tool. "Shepard," he read aloud. "If you've received this message, it means someone is attempting to hack into the encrypted data file that contains the research my team and I have accumulated on Haestrom. And if someone is hacking into it, it probably means something has happened to myself and my team. Shepard, I'm sending you the data file. If you received this, you have the only existing copy any data that was being kept on Haestrom will have deleted itself. Keep it safe, please. Find someone who can help. And know that I'm sorry." There was more to the message. Two lines. _Keelah, I love you. Don't ever forget that._ But he couldn't bring himself to read those words aloud.

The room was silent for a long moment. "Haestrom… Isn't that the planet where the sun was blowing up or something, and the sunlight fried our shields?" Shepard nodded. "How long has she been back there?" Garrus asked quietly.

The human looked up from the message. "About a month. Seemed like things were getting worse, so a group of quarians and salarians teamed up to look into it. Tali thought she should go, since she was one of the only survivors of the initial research team."

Garrus nodded. "I remember that. She and Kal'Reeger were the only people left." He paused. "Well, first things first, we're going to need a ship. And a pilot."

Shepard looked at his friend. That was one of the things he'd always appreciated about Garrus; he was always ready for the next step. Always planning ahead, and always somehow able to read the commander's mind in a way very few others could. Shepard had been wondering how to ask the turian for backup, but he didn't even need to. Garrus was volunteering.

The Lieutenant Commander walked into his bedroom and grabbed a small duffle bag, tossing in a change of clothes, some light armor, and a few guns. "I've got a pilot. As for the ship…I'll talk to Hackett," he said over his shoulder to Garrus, who was leaning against the doorway. "He'll find me one."

"If he can't?"

He slid the zipper on the bag closed. "Then we'll steal one."

Behind him, the turian chuckled. "Now you're starting to sound like me, Shepard."

The commander slung the bag over his shoulder and adjusted the strap across his chest. Shepard offered a brief, half-hearted smile. But all he could think about was Tali's message repeating in his head over and over again.

"Let's go, Archangel."

…

Hackett replied to Shepard's message within an hour. The human knew he should have felt grateful, but he could feel the mental clock ticking, a pressure he hadn't felt since the Reaper invasion. Every minute counted. But at least Hackett had found him a ship.

Better yet, the admiral told him he could have the Normandy SR2.

"Just like old times," Garrus stated when he heard the news as they both walked through the Bachjret Ward. They both ignored the reporters calling out to them, the sideways glances, and the whispered recognitions.

Shepard's mouth quirked. "I'm starting to think I'm bound to the Normandy forever," he replied. There was no malice in his voice. He liked the Normandy. Loved her, in fact. She was as much a part of his old crew as Garrus, or Liara, or any of them, really. "She's a good ship," he added.

Garrus nodded in agreement. "That she is, Commander. Best ship I've ever worked on."

"You and me both."

They made a left turn and walked to the end of the path, turning to one of the doors that lined the walls on either side. Shepard took in a deep breath, and then knocked.

EDI answered, her voice as surprised as her robotic intonation could allow for. "Shepard."

EDI looked impressively similar to how she had been while serving on the Normandy. She had "died" when Shepard decided to destroy all synthetic life in order to make sure the Reapers were wiped out once and for all. But Joker had downloaded her files and memory and hired someone to build her another body. Her body was almost identical, and Shepard knew Joker had used some pictures he'd taken as a sort of reference.

"EDI. Good to see you."

"Is that Shepard?" Joker's cheerful voice came floating through the door from deeper in the apartment.

"Yes," EDI replied, stepping aside and letting the two enter. "He is here with Mr. Vakarian."

"Garrus too? Who called the cavalry?"

Shepard chuckled, all three of them following the sound of the voice down the hallway. Joker was sitting on the couch, his feet propped up. He turned off the vid he was watching, tipping the beer he was drinking in their direction as Shepard and Garrus took a seat across from him.

"How you guys been?" Joker asked.

"I've been better." Shepard leaned forward. "Joker, I need your help."

The pilot straightened in his seat a little, surprised at the blunt candor. "Wow. Right to the point. I guess this isn't a social call." Shepard had always been straightforward—it was something Joker had always liked about the guy—but there was something that caught his attention. Something different about the way he said it. "What's going on?"

"Tali's in trouble."

Joker's gaze narrowed. The news seemed to catch EDI's attention, too. "I consider both you and Ms. Vas Normandy a friend. We would be happy to assist you, Shepard."

"What kind of trouble?" Joker added, frowning.

"Shepard got a message from her a few hours ago." Garrus glanced at him. "It…Well, it might be best if he just reads it."

Truthfully, Shepard didn't really _need_ to look down at his omni-tool. With how many times he'd read it over, with the way it had been parroting in his mind ever since he first looked at it, he felt like he had memorized most of it already. But he looked down anyway, and when he had finished reading it (leaving out the last two lines like he had done with Garrus), the room was silent again.

Joker sat back, stunned. "When do we leave?"

Shepard released a breath and smiled, shaking his head. He was relieved. He honestly hadn't been sure how Joker and EDI would react. The war had taken its toll on them, too, and in some ways, Shepard knew he was asking them to jump back into action.

"As soon as you're ready."

"We will require a ship." EDI asked.

"Hackett set us up with the Normandy," Garrus answered. Joker blinked in surprise.

"No kidding. EDI, pack a bag."

"I do not need to pack anything, Jeff."

"It's an expression… Never mind. We're ready. "

…

They met up with Admiral Hackett an hour or two later outside the docking bay of the Citadel. Shepard shook Hackett's hand, but his eyes were on the familiar ship behind him. "How'd you manage to pull this off, sir?"

Hackett just smiled. "I pulled a few strings. The Alliance had investment in that research team Ms. Vas Normandy was a part of. They were more than happy to offer one of their ships to figure out what happened on Haestrom." Shepard locked gazes with him. "Especially when it will be under your command."

Shepard felt humbled, in a way. "Thank you, Admiral."

"We pulled together a team to help you. Engineers, navigators, the works. You'll see a few familiar faces, I think. We'll help where we can. The rest, that's up to you."

Shepard saluted the officer, and Hackett returned the gesture. He moved to walk away, but stopped and turned back. "And Shepard, I'm sorry about Tali."

The Commander swallowed and nodded, not replying as Hackett turned and walked out of the docking bay. Shepard tried to ignore the way everybody was talking as if she and her team were already dead. He wasn't naïve or stupid by any stretch of the imagination. He knew what it looked like, what his odds were. But Shepard wondered just how much more loss he could take. Unless he was absolutely certain she was gone, he wasn't going to accept another death. _Ashley, Kaidan, Legion, Mordin, Miranda, Anderson, Cortez …_ the list went on and on. He wasn't sure if he could handle any more. Not when it was supposed to finally have been over. And especially not if it was Tali.

War was funny like that. You'd think it would help you get used to death, but it doesn't. It just slams you with one loss after another. There is no "getting used to it". Five years after the Reaper invasion, and everybody knew that now. Shepard better than anyone.

The four of them stepped onto the Normandy, and the Commander was hit with a wave of familiarity. The sensation of unease mixed oddly with the equally strong feeling that he was _home_. He belonged here as much as he belonged anywhere. But the ship also felt heavy with memories of the last time Shepard was on the ship. And of thoughts regarding the mission that lay before them.

"Home sweet home," Joker sighed as he stepped up beside him, taking in a deep breath of the faintly metallic scent of the ship. "You know where to find me if you need me, Commander. Punch up the galaxy map when you're ready."

Joker headed to the cockpit, and EDI spoke up behind Shepard. "I think I will see if I can re-upload my AI programming into the ship. If this is still the SR2, the means to do that should still be in effect." She paused. "I am glad to be back, Shepard." He nodded absently as EDI followed after the pilot.

On the other side of him, Garrus sighed. "I'm going to do a quick calibration of the weapons. No offense to your team here, Shepard, but I like to make sure of things. You never know when you need a giant gun at your disposal."

Shepard nodded again, too lost in thought to really have heard anything his friend said. The turian noticed.

"And while I'm at it," Garrus added dryly, "I might test my new missile launcher in the armory. See if it really can punch a hole through the Normandy's walls."

Shepard shook his head. "What?"

Garrus chuckled. "Just checking to see if you were listening."

"Joker would kill you if you punched a hole through the ship. Vrolik syndrome or no." He smiled, but it was faint and fleeting. He added. "I might, too."

Garrus chuckled. "I have no doubt."

The Commander was silent again. He sighed, running a hand down his face. "I never thought I'd be back here, Garrus."

"You and me both," the turian replied. "But I can think of no better reason to get back into the game."

Shepard blew out a heavy breath. "Yeah."

"Hey." Garrus nudged his friend's shoulder. "Tali's a fighter. She's out there somewhere. And if she's out there, then we'll find her."

Shepard glanced at him. "I know. I just hope there's enough time."

…

 **A/n: I hope you liked that, you guys! Please review. They keep us going and help us get better. Apologies if the variances in writing style from one chapter to another bother anyone, but please keep in mind that this is a tag-team, so it's bound to happen.** **We love you guys. Our readers are the best.**


End file.
